North by north they
travelled, south by south
For money in their pockets and food in their mouths
Counting the pennies and biding their time
West to the ocean, the end of the line

They travel the long miles,
those women and men
Who only want a chance to start over again
So easy to give up, so hard to get by
They leave all their families and homes far behind

Away from the north-west,
its factory towns
For to find a warm place to lay a body down
So far from when they started, so little in hand
Oh where did we go in this fruitful land

They all used to work in the
auto and steel
Till the rug was pulled out, tell me how do they feel
Towards the men who had held all their dreams in their hand
They ran with the money and left them with sand

I talked about change to a
man yesterday
We stood on the corner and this he did say
I followed the rules and I never asked why
Now the system's not working and neither am I

'Twas
down by Brannigan's Corner, one morning I did stray
I met a fellow rebel, and to me he did say
"We've orders from the captain to assemble at Dunbar
But how are we to get there, without a motor car?"

"Oh, Barney dear, be of good cheer, I'll tell you what we'll do
The specials they are plentiful, the I.R.A. are few
We'll send a wire to Johnson to meet us at Stranlar
And we'll give the boys a bloody good ride in Johnson's Motor Car

When doctor Johnson heard the news he soon put on his shoes
He says this is an urgent case, there is no time to lose
He then put on his castor hat and on his breast a star
You could hear the din all through Glenfin of Johnson's Motor Car

But when he got to the railway bridge, some rebels he saw there
Old Johnson knew the game was up, for at him they did stare
He said "I have a permit, to travel near and far"
"To hell with your English permit, we want your motor car"

"What will my local brethren think, when they hear the news
My car it has been commandeered, by the rebels at Dunluce"
"We'll give you a receipt for it, all signed by Captain Barr
And when Ireland gets her freedom, boy, you'll get your motor car"

Well we put that car in motion and filled it to the brim
With guns and bayonets shining which made old Johnson grim
And Barney hoisted a Sínn Fein flag, and it fluttered like a star
And we gave three cheers for the I.R.A. and Johnson's Motor Car

Well,
my father was a miner,
and his father was before him,
He always had been proud to work the coal
But since they fell 'neath Roben's axe,
All the lads have got the sack
And away to work in England we must go!

Farewell ye colliery workers,
the muffler and the cap
Farewell ye Rhondda valley girls,
we never will come back
The mines they are a-closin',
and the valleys they're all doomed
There's no work in the Rhondda boys,
we'll be in London soon

No more the chapel singin',
that long ago has left us
And the public house
no more the miner's songs
And the populations' droppin'
For the boot wheels they are stoppin',
And I can't afford to stay here very long

Farewell ye colliery workers,
the muffler and the cap
Farewell ye Rhondda valley girls,
we never will come back
The mines they are a-closin',
and the valleys they're all doomed
There's no work in the Rhondda boys,
we'll be in London soon

Treherbert and Treorchy,
Tonypandy and Tynewydd
Ystrad Rhondda and Ton Pentre, all adieu
For I can no longer wait
While Parliament debates
So a fond farewell I bid to all of you!

Farewell ye colliery workers,
the muffler and the cap
Farewell ye Rhondda valley girls,
we never will come back
The mines they are a-closin',
and the valleys they're all doomed
There's no work in the Rhondda boys,
we'll be in London soon

Farewell ye colliery workers,
the muffler and the cap
Farewell ye Rhondda valley girls,
we never will come back
The mines they are a-closin',
and the valleys they're all doomed
There's no work in the Rhondda boys,
we'll be in London soon

As I walk the road from
Killeshandra weary I sit down
For it's twelve long miles around the lake to get to Cavan Town
Though Oughter and the road I go once seemed beyond compare
Now I curse the time it takes to reach my Cavan girl so fair

The autumn shades are on the
leaves, the trees will soon be bare
Each red-coat leaf around me seems the colours of her hair
My gaze retreats to find my feet and once again I sigh
For the broken pools of sky remind me of the colour of her eyes

At the Cavan cross each
Sunday morning, there she can be found
And she seems to have the eye of every boy in Cavan Town
If my luck will hold I'll have the golden summer of her smile
And to break the hearts of Cavan men she'll take to me a while

So next Sunday evening finds
me homeward - Killeshandra bound -
To work the week till I return and court in Cavan Town
When asked if she would be my bride, at least she'd not say no
So next Sunday morning I'll rouse myself and back to her I'll go

Oh, Dublin you're my city
I'm proud to call you mine
Divided by the Liffey's greasy slime
No matter who I love and woo at home or over sea
My heart prefers those Dubliners like me

Dublin men and women are the salt of all the earth
Fiercely true and loyal to the town that gave them birth
A Dublin man spends all his life making friends
With black porter each evening at eight
When they sound his death knell his last prayer is to dwell
By Saint James' pearly gate

Oh, Dublin you're my city
I'm proud to call you mine
Divided by the Liffey's greasy slime
No matter who I love and woo at home or over sea
My heart prefers those Dubliners like me

Dublin is to Dubliners a dear ould dirty town
It's getting dearer every year and hard to earn a pound
And as for the Liffey that gash through the city
It's thicker than treacle or chalk
It will soon be so grim that instead of a swim
They'll be holding the Liffey walk

Thugs and drugs and muggings are the order of the day
The headlines yell: "We've gone to hell it's time crime didn't pay"
The gangs and the police meet nightly on Foley Street
Bleeding their way through the news
It's become quite a scene the new show on our screen
Will be Sean McDermott Street blues

Oh, Dublin you're my city
I'm proud to call you mine
Divided by the Liffey's greasy slime
No matter who I love and woo at home or over sea
My heart prefers those Dubliners like me

Even though we've troubles we can always find a smile
A 'Dub' will wear a certain air I think you'd call it style
Those Guinness streaked faces from the Phoenix Park races
Cheer up the grey streets with their jibes
Though most landmarks are gone, the rich pagent lives on
And Molly Malone still survives

Oh, Dublin you're my city
I'm proud to call you mine
Divided by the Liffey's greasy slime
No matter who I love and woo at home or over sea
My heart prefers those Dubliners like me

Oh, Dublin you're my city
I'm proud to call you mine
Divided by the Liffey's greasy slime
No matter who I love and woo at home or over sea
My heart prefers those Dubliners like me

Reprises
:

The
Dubliners - 1987

Willie
Mc Bride

Origine
et première interprétation :

également
appelée No Man's land

mais
plus
connue sous le titre The Green Fields of France

Eric Bogle - I wrote this wee song
- 1976

Well,
how do you do, Private William McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done.
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916,
Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly?
Did the rifles fir o'er you as they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?

The sun's shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that's still No Man's Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man.
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.

And I can't help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause?"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.

Me
father rises early and he makes his cup of tay
He lights the kitchen stove and then he calls me
His days are often empty he's nothing much to do
So he sits and tells me stories of the traveling life he knew

In the evening they will meet in lonely country lanes
A field away he'd hear a collie bark
And they'd pass the time away with talk about the days
Standing round the campfire in the dark
Standing round the campfire in the dark

Me mother lights the house the hot water and the rooms
It's warm in the winter and she's handy with the broom
Sometimes she makes colcannon more often breedle bread
There's a hunger deep inside her for her traveling life that's dead

In the evening she would lift the black pot from the coals
A bitter Wedgie Arras would remark
There'd be vessels left to clean wild chickens could be seen
Playing round the campfire in the dark
Playing round the campfire in the dark

We go down to the pool halls to chat up the town B'yores
Sometimes at the discos we can't get pass the doors
We're still tinkers to them and it's thrown at our ears
We're still the awful strangers after all these years

And I think about my own life and the way it would be
A mess cart van a bit of dayling a wife and a family
Now Thursday I collect the dole Friday pitch and toss
Where on the sight I think about the traveler's ways we lost

And I wish that I would rise and wash the sleep out of my eyes
And listen to the sweet song of the lark
And I wish that could be in the campfire company
With the sound of horses moving in the dark
With the sound of horses moving in the dark
With the sound of horses moving in the dark

Reprises
:

The
Fureys - Winds of change - 1993

Molly
Malone

Origine
et première interprétation :

Morceau
post-Traditionnel composé vers 1883 par James Yorkston,

sous
le titre"Cockles
and Mussels".

Connu
également comme "In Dublin's fair city"

In Dublin's fair city, where the
girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
As she wheeled her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!